From the Guardian's new advice columnist Alanis Morissette to Cheryl Strayed and our very own Philippa Perry, the modern-day agony aunts are straight-talking writers you want on your side.

I have a very open-armed, honest relationship with my family. I feel I can talk to them about most things – sex, heartbreak, drugs, insecurities – but sometimes I don’t want to. Sometimes I want to talk to a stranger, who has no preconceived notions of who I am and where I’ve been, one who can’t pinpoint the chinks in my armour with their eyes closed.

So as an angsty teen, when I wanted to pour out my problems to an anonymous human, I wrote in my diary. Pages and pages of tear-stained biro ink and Sylvia Plath quotes and initials of boys: HJM; LEW; APL (I was too scared to write their names in full).

When I look back at these entries today – my mortified mum unearthed them in a shoebox last weekend; #awkward – I can’t help but wish I’d been writing to someone. Someone who answered. And perhaps if there had been an agony aunt with the straight-talking compassion of Cheryl Strayed, the hard-worn wisdom of Heather Havrilesky, or the calm perception of Haruki Murakami, then I would have.

Because these new kinds of agony aunts are redefining the notion of the problem page. They don’t judge; but they don’t pander to your emotions either. Instead, they give you somebody to lean on when life wobbles at the knees.

These women (and men) are not pen pals. They are the friend who pours you a glass of Shiraz, holds your hand and tells you to stand tall and ‘ask better questions’.

I read and treasure their answers like they are short stories. I bookmark their columns, copy and paste their words into emails to friends and tweet them when their sentences hit a nerve. Sometimes, they even reply (I LOVE YOU, CHERYL).

So as the Guardian announces the one and only Alanis Morissette as their new agony aunt (YES, you read that correctly!!), I thought I’d celebrate five of the problem pages that replaced my teenage diary:

Alanis Morissette (The Guardian)

My favourite piece of news today? Everyone's favourite angst-ridden Canadian singer is set to become the Guardian's agony aunt on January 16th, replacing Molly Ringwald.

According to the paper Alanis claims that 'family therapist' has “[...] been the role I’ve played my whole life – parents, brothers, even extended family members, that was the role I took on, because I suppose I had this combination of intuition and empathy. I cut my teeth, basically, listening for a living.”

Will she recommend getting naked in your living room? Or getting your heart tramped on? Or sticking your foot in your mouth any tiiiiiime? I hope so.

Because Alanis was born for this job. She's been analysing and sifting through emotions - both ours and her own - ever since she picked up a guitar. I feel like she's been my personal agony aunt for years, the one person who always told me it's okay not to have everything figured out, that whatever happens everything is just fine, fine, fine.

And now? We have the chance to write to her with a problem every week. Bring. It. On.

The reclusive Japanese novelist offers advice to troubled readers online through his site Mr Murakami’s Place.

Here are just three examples of his calm, succinct wisdom:

<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><p>That&#39;s all we have, finally, the words, and they had better be the right ones.</p>&mdash; Haruki Murakami (@_harukimurakami) <a href="https://twitter.com/_harukimurakami/status/574850882858283008">March 9, 2015</a></blockquote>

<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><p>It takes me a while to understand things. But if I do have the time, I will come to understand you - better than anyone else in the world.</p>&mdash; Haruki Murakami (@_harukimurakami) <a href="https://twitter.com/_harukimurakami/status/573895233576046594">March 6, 2015</a></blockquote>

<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><p>Everything will be okay in the end . If it&#39;s not okay , it&#39;s not the end.</p>&mdash; Haruki Murakami (@_harukimurakami) <a href="https://twitter.com/_harukimurakami/status/562378513437966338">February 2, 2015</a></blockquote>

I worship at the altar of Philippa Perry for three reasons: 1) her no-BS policy, 2) her leftfield approach and 3) her compassion.

As Red’s Self editor Brigid Moss put it, ‘Although sometimes her answers may be not what you want to hear at that moment, usually contain advice on some kind of work you have to do on yourself, they always go to the heart of what it is to be human.’

I only stumbled across Heather’s Ask Polly column on New Year’s Day, but from the moment she used quotes from The Sopranos to solve a girl’s dating problems, I knew I would be reading her for a long, long time. Seriously, this woman knows.

Two highlights include this ‘sharp knives’ column (recommended to me by Simran Hans) and her recent reply to a girl who was obsessing over her boyfriend. This paragraph is a morsel of her brilliance:

'Think like a beast, like a mountain, like a towering, essential, unimpeachable warrior. You are taking what you want, you are fulfilling your manifest destiny, you are at the center of the frame, you're pulling in all of the focus, swallowing the landscape like an earthquake.

Think like an entitled, clean professional in khaki pants who's also the rapper of the year, the best, the realest and fuck you if you can't tell the difference.

It takes HARD WORK to think that way! DO THE WORK. Think like a monster, a mogul, Wonder Woman in brass knuckles, a conquistador, every day a new challenge and a new adventure.'

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